Arboriculture
by xLilim
Summary: A collection of unrelated Horticulture specials written for all occasions. HisokaOC
1. The Crack of Dawn on the Fourth Day

**Story** : Horticulture

 **Pairing** ( **s** ): Hisoka|Pandora

 **Word Count** : 100

 **Rating** : M

 **Author's Comment** : This was the only way to kick off a side story collection for these two. I'm iffy about the collection's title, but I did pick it for a reason, so it might or might not change (and if it does, I'm sorry).

If you want to see any couple or character in certain situations from this story, let me know. I'm taking suggestions! If I feel inspired by a suggestion or feel that I can make it work, I'll write them!

 ** _Originally posted on November 20, 2017 for 30 Days of Short Fiction_** ** _. For more information on 30DoSF, please refer to the pinned entry on at my wordpress, linked available in my profile, or read the vague explanation under the announcements header on my profile page.  
_**

* * *

 **The Crack of Dawn on the Fourth Day**

Pandora eased onto his cock, a smile curved her lips mirroring Hisoka's own. His amber gaze hungry, tongue ran along his lower lip. She burned, desire pulsing through her, the slight movements she made with him inside her drew a moan from deep within her stomach.

She pressed a hand over her abdomen, full to the brim, their muscles throbbing. He stirred underneath her, cock pulsing with the need to release, but the ring strapped tight around the base prevented it.

"Do you plan to untie me?" asked Hisoka, wrists bound above him.

"Not until we have a safe word."


	2. The Mind's Interior

**Story** : Horticulture

 **Pairing** ( **s** ): Hisoka|Pandora

 **Word Count** : 500

 **Rating** : M

 **Author's Comment** : I am pretty certain that the connection between the first half and second half is shaky - or rather, hard to pinpoint. The intent was there, obviously. And I've tried my hand at subtlety. I know I've failed, but hopefully once I'm done with these, I can go back and edit them a bit. Enjoy.

There's also a poll up on my profile, so check it out!

If you want to see any couple or character in certain situations from this story, let me know. I'm taking suggestions! If I feel inspired by a suggestion or feel that I can make it work, I'll write them!

 _ **Originally posted on December 7, 2017 for 30 Days of Short Fiction. For more information on 30DoSF, please refer to the pinned entry on at my wordpress, linked available in my profile, or read the vague explanation under the announcements header on my profile page.**_

* * *

 **The Mind's Interior**

"You look like the king of girl that enjoys being choked."

She sees him looking down at her with a smirk on his chiseled face and a pink drink in his hand. She mirrors his cocksure grin, drinking the rest of the golden liquid in her champagne flute, and responds, voice tumbling beyond her lips, "Do I?"

He moves to occupy the narrow space on the cushioned seat and she slides over to accommodate him. He crosses his legs at the knees and leans closer. The alcohol on his breath caresses her cheeks when he speaks. "Your neck is so slender and lovely."

"Thanks, I got it from my sister," she replies, setting aside her flute.

He laughs and gestures the server to them. "Let me buy you a drink."

She takes his pink drink and drinks it all at once, setting the glass beside her own. "Take me home and test your theory."

They make it as far as his car before he has her bent over the back seat, ramming his cock into her, but he takes her back to his apartment to enjoy her on his bed.

He wraps his hand over her neck as he is thrusting inside of her and she lets him apply pressure. It isn't quite what she anticipated when he proposed it, but she feels a tingle of curiosity inside the center of her belly before it begins to spread along the rest of her nerve endings. She never reaches orgasm because he's tired after climaxing.

"Did you like it?" he asks.

"No," she says, redressing.

Years later, when she wears bruised rings around her neck from Hisoka's rough handling, she thinks back to her first experience with asphyxiation during sex and the man that introduced her to it. She didn't remember him often, but she decided to explore because of him. She delved into higher paying jobs with an open mind and curiosity.

Hisoka's head rests on her lap shuffling through his deck. He wears matching bruises on his neck and notices her gaze trained on them. He grins as if he knows she's been thinking of something and that he can guess what it is without her saying so. And she hates this about him.

She puts a hand over his face, a wrinkle forming between her pale eyebrows, but he takes it away, drawing it down to his chest where she feels his steady heartbeat.

And she knows it'll be over soon as she jerks her hand away. She shoves him off her lap and tries to leave—there're things to plan. He catches her by the wrist and pushes her down on the bed.

She laughs when he nuzzles her neck, but almost punches him after he leaves teeth marks. Her body quivers and her bruises ache against the pressure of his body. She gasps and he swallows her breath. His killer's intent stabs into her in promise, but his lust is stronger still and it drowns her.


	3. A Liar's Game

**Story** : Horticulture

 **Pairing** ( **s** ): Hisoka|Pandora

 **Word Count** : 400

 **Rating** : T

 **Author's Comment** : The fact that I haven't started releasing the second half of the story hindered my ability to write some of the pieces that I wanted for these two. Most of these, however, take place sometime during part two, so you can discern what you will.

Given that this is the last contribution to the 30DoSF for this story, I'm going to be marking this story as "Completed." That said, feel free to continue to follow it for possible future updates.

 _ **Originally posted on December 12, 2017 for 30 Days of Short Fiction. For more information on 30DoSF, please refer to the pinned entry on at my wordpress, linked available in my profile, or read the vague explanation under the announcements header on my profile page.**_

* * *

 **A Liar's Game**

A ten thousand jenny bottle of whiskey sat between them. The humidity in town was so bad the air conditioning didn't seem all that helpful. They had only been there for a night. The strong afternoon sun poured into their many windowed room, an orange glow filling the open-aired space.

They were all smiles and charm when they settled into their chairs. The agreement was a game of twenty questions.

It started with this gem of a conversation starter after great sex: "You never talk about yourself."

"Are you so in love with me that you want to know everything about me?" she had remarked, leaving no opportunity for him to snap back. "It's not like you talk much of yourself either."

That had happened yesterday when they were draped underneath a starry sky before they had arrived to their current location.

Pandora served the liquor. "Why don't you start?"

"I'm more interested in hearing about you right now."

He brought the glass to his lips. The glint in his eyes was playful.

"It's only polite that you do since this was your idea, so I insist."

Hisoka conceded, but she assumed he did it because it benefitted him. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything." Her lips curved into a sweetened smile. "From beginning to end. Give me your story."

"You sound determined to be uncooperative."

"We never discussed this part of the game. Should we talk about it now?"

"Admit it," he started. "You're ashamed to admit that you live a sad little assassin's life. Tortured by your mother, pitted against your siblings, until you ran away as soon as you were old enough."

"Admitting that assumes that my siblings were ever competition."

Shit.

Hisoka's grin widened. "Hit a nerve?"

"I don't like this game."

"Didn't think you would," he said, leaving his seat to lean over the table closer to her, "but I like to watch you squirm."

"And what makes you squirm?" she asked, straightening her back.

"I'm disappointed you don't know already." He backed away, moving from the seat and taking his glass with him.

Pandora sighed as she set her glass on the table and brushed her pale hair out of her face.

He stood with his back to her. "I want to see your real face."

"Is that what this is about?"

"When I kill you, I want to see it."

She laughed.


	4. A Week in Hell - Day One

**Story** : Horticulture

 **Pairing** ( **s** ): Hisoka|Pandora

 **Word Count** : 1318

 **Rating** : M

 **Author's Comment** : The "A Week in Hell" chapters take place sometime in Ch 12 of Horticulture. I initially planned to post the pieces together as one long, very indulgent one-shot, but decided to post them individually instead.

 _ **Originally posted on October 31, 2018 as a Halloween treat.  
**_

* * *

 **A Week in Hell, Day One**

 _Tuesday_

"I like houses," said Pandora, a spoonful of yogurt in her mouth. Her naked back pressed into Hisoka's clothed chest. He reached over to take the spoon from between her lips and dug into the bowl of strawberry-flavored yogurt for his own share.

"What kind of houses?"

"Would it be better to say that I like interior design? I prefer minimalistic styles over others, but for the Meljanac home, I wanted to maintain the traditional air of the shrine. I did modernize the amenities when I took over the property, but I took special care to stick to my design plan."

"I've never seen you so excited," he mused, licking the spoon clean. "Not even when I have my tongue inside your—"

"Your turn."

"I like magic." With a flick of his wrist the spoon in his hand turned into a card—Queen of Hearts—and grinned. He turned it around and with another flick, it became two, then three, then four—all Queens when he showed them to her—and finally, he made them disappear. "Impressed? I bet you couldn't tell how I did it?"

"Don't ask if you have no intention of showing me how to do it myself."

"Where'd the fun in that be?"

"Okay, now wave your hand and give me back my spoon."

He offered her a half-hearted wave that produced no utensil.

Pandora jerked up. "That's the only spoon in the house!"

"Maybe you should've bought more spoons."

"I did! Someone stole all of my silver!"

He snorted. "That's embarrassing for a family of assassins!"

"How am I going to eat the rest of this?"

Hisoka pushed the hand holding the bowl up into her face to her surprise. She knocked it out of his hand where it clattered on the ground as he laughed.

She shoved him with an elbow and coughed loudly. "It went up my nose!"

Hisoka took her by the chin and forced her head back. He lapped up the strawberry-flavored custard from across her tightly-pressed lips.

"This feels gross," she said against his tongue.

He moaned, savoring every drop of sticky custard on the lower half of her face, and smeared it down her neck. He licked his lips. "Open your mouth."

Pandora obliged him and he pressed two yogurt-covered fingers inside her mouth. She ran the tip of her tongue from the base of them to the ends of his pointed nails, staring deep into his amber eyes as she worked.

He shifted in his seat.

 _Oh?_ She grabbed his half-hardened cock and grinned.

Hisoka pushed his pants down as Pandora sank to her knees between his legs.

"Too bad we don't have anymore of that yogurt," he said, leaning back into the cushions. His hand wound behind her head and guided her closer to his throbbing dick.

She nuzzled the base of his cock as she played with his balls and laughed against it. "I don't mind." She hummed appreciatively before she ran her tongue along the bottom of his dick to the tip. She sucked on the crown, savoring the saltiness of it mingling with the sour taste of his precum. "I love the taste of your cock."

Hisoka's dick twitched against her searching tongue. "You're way too skilled."

She pinned his gaze down and wrapped her hand around the base, jerking him slow. "Are you having second thoughts?"

He maintained a cool elegance as he relished the pleasure that made her nipples harden and ache to be touched. He responded, not a hint of a reaction except for the huskiness of his tone, "On?"

"Kill me or keep me for sex." She pressed her free hand against his hips and swirled her tongue along the crown of his cock. "Indecision is very attractive on you."

"You shouldn't talk with your mouth full." His took a fistful of her white hair and pushed her down on his dick.

She nearly gagged with his first thrust, but the pain in the back of her head felt so good it distracted her. She groaned, the vibrations straining along his throbbing cock as he angled her head and promptly fucked her mouth.

Listening to his haggard breaths combining into moans with every harsh thrust weakened her. Her body warmed with excitement, the core of the heat boiling in the pit of her belly. She slid her hand between her thighs and moved her fingers against her slicken sex, shuddering when she brushed the tips of her fingers against her clit. She groaned when his grip tightened, the tip of his cock tickled the top of her mouth every other stroke and made her body quiver harder.

Hisoka hummed, leaning his head back. "Impatient, aren't you?"

She muffled a response that vibrated along his shaft when she opened her throat for him and took him back in. He held her head still, pulsing inside of her, as she worked her tongue and mouth against his length. Tears sprung in her eyes, her own pleasure mounting as she applied more pressure to her sensitive clit, unable to hold back her voice.

 _God,_ she wanted more.

Pandora brought herself to orgasm, her insides tingling. She savored Hisoka's climax as it burned on her tongue and licked her lips. His cock remained eager. He stroked his length as she rose to her feet, her chest rising and falling in anticipation. They were far from done.

"You have something else planned?" asked Hisoka, leaning back so the tight abdominal muscles strained against his thin shirt.

"I plan to sit on your face."

He grinned, the grip he had on his dick tightened as it pumped up and down his length. "Sounds fun."

Pandora pushed him down on his back and climbed over him, straddling his face. He gripped her ass and guided her down onto his mouth. He burrowed into her wet sex, growling against her sensitive flesh. A shiver shot through her. She tried to bite down on her lip before the curse rolled off her tongue.

The pinpricks of pain from his nails pushing into her skin heightened her pleasure. She didn't have anything to hold onto and bent forward to hold herself up, but he held her in place, keeping her weight almost entirely on him.

Her cheeks flushed with the realization. "Hisoka!"

He scrapped his nails down her ass and she moaned so loud her voice echoed within the room. He pressed his tongue inside of her, drinking her in hungrily, focusing entirely on the entrance, purposely avoiding her clit. He teased a trail up to it, circled it slowly, humming appreciatively against her quivering skin, the vibrations of his voice muffled against her skin drove her crazy. She moved her hips over his generous tongue attempting to guide him to her aching clit.

Hisoka's hand came down hard against her ass and she cried out. " _Ngh_ , Hi—"

His gaze narrowed, the hunger in his eyes hadn't ebbed. He sucked on her skin, nipped the silken flesh, and tortured her into a powerful orgasm that rattled through her in waves of varying intensity.

Her insides were still twitching as she clumsily climbed off him. He clasped her arm and righted her, drawing her body flush against him. He tilted her head back and kissed her, his tongue meeting hers, their tastes mingling thick and sensual between them. Their groans tangled into a single deep sound as his hands found their way back to her ass to spread her. She uttered his name and he deepened the kiss, her mind going hazy.

Hisoka hoisted her up into his arms and carried her into the nearest room. He spread her open with one swift thrust of his cock, her back pressed against the cold wall. Their breaths hitched, they were stock still as their eyes locked, and their panting slowed. Their compatibility was insane.

And morning dragged on.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Reviews are appreciated.**


	5. Survival Rate

**Story** : Horticulture

 **Pairing** ( **s** ): None

 **Word Count** : 613

 **Author's Comment** : Pandora's upbringing is told through snippets in "Horticulture," so I thought using "Arboriculture" as a place to potentially expand on the things that I cannot within the context of the plot in the latter.

 _ **Originally posted on December 2, 2018 for my 30 Days of Short Fiction. For more information on 30DoSF, please refer to the pinned entry on my WordPress, xlilim – link available in my profile.**_

 _ **I am taking suggestions! If you want to see any couple or character from the story in certain situations, let me know. If I feel inspired by the idea, I will write them! You can PM me, leave a review, or comment on the 30DoSF WordPress page.**_

* * *

 _Survival Rate_

Medora dabbed Panos' bloody hand with a cotton doused in alcohol. He hissed, the afternoon sun setting behind the mountains surrounding the shrine and the pinkish orange glow shone around his slumped form.

"You need to keep your guard up," she berated, jerking his hand closer when he attempted to take it away. She frowned at his sorry-looking expression. He looked like a kicked puppy, whimpering almost. "Don't block a dagger with your bare hands unless you're going to take it from your opponent."

"I panicked," he grumbled.

"Well, you have to stop it." Medora poured the whole bottle of alcohol over the open wound making Panos cry out. "I'm not going to be with you forever. I can't keep taking care of—"

Panos took his hand from her. "I didn't ask you to take care of me! I can do it myself."

Medora reached for his wounded hand, but he slapped her hand away. She threw the washcloth in his face.

"Fine, but don't come crying to me when you hurt yourself worse!"

She stormed out of the room and almost slammed into her mother. Gaia peered down at her with a disdain that Medora tasted on her tongue, like she had licked something rotten.

"We need to talk," Gaia told her. "After Panos."

Medora rolled her eyes and moved on. She turned down the hallway for effect, but returned to stand outside the room. She rarely allowed her mother to sit alone with Panos.

"…I have never been so disappointed in a child before," said Gaia, her voice a void of compassion. "Your nen ability is valuable, so you have been spared from Harvest, but even I cannot continue to excuse you from the rankings much longer. You are not up to standard. Survive or die. It is up to you."

Medora clenched her fists.

"You can no longer hide in Medora's shadow. I won't allow it."

"I don't need her," Panos stated, unshaking.

"Then prove it. You have a job. Here are the details. Clean this mess up and get to the airport as soon as possible."

Medora didn't bother hiding when Gaia stepped out.

"Do not follow him, Medora," she advised. "If you do, I will have you dragged home and shackled."

"We're a team. We take jobs together."

"The partnership was cute when you were younger, but from now on your jobs will be counted separately."

Medora panicked, but kept her expression neutral. "He will be up for Harvest."

"Then he was not worthy."

Gaia disappeared down the sunset-dyed hallway as Panos exited the room, his hand wrapped in gauze. He frowned when he noticed her standing outside.

"I bet you overheard everything," he accused.

"I'm going with you."

"I'm doing this alone."

Panos walked past her, but she pursued him.

"You could be killed."

"I don't need you to protect me, Medora."

"Then who will!"

Panos whirled around. He jabbed his thumb into his chest. "I will. I'm going to protect myself."

She hated the helplessness that clawed at her chest, that she was unable to change his mind. Concoct a way to be near him when he needed her on the job. "You'll be up for Harvest."

His pale eyebrows knitted. "You think so lowly of me?" he spat. "You're just like the rest of them. You think me so weak that I'd die on a simple job! Well, guess what? I'm not weak! I'm strong! Maybe not as strong as you, but just you wait, I'll surpass you, too, and then I won't need anyone's help!"

Medora watched him go and prayed to her serene god. _Make him so strong he survives us all._


	6. Here is My God, the Merciful

**Story** : Horticulture

 **Pairing** ( **s** ): None

 **Word Count** : 701

 **Author's Comment** : I think I could write about Medora's childhood for days. I wanted to expand a little bit more on Medora's adoration for the bronze statue in the temple where she grew up. There's so much more to it and it connects to her personality and her motivations in Horticulture, but I'm sort of being careful about saying them outright. I want readers to come to the same conclusion by the end, but I want it to be subtle. So, I'm testing my storytelling skills.

 _ **Originally posted on December 10, 2018 for my 30 Days of Short Fiction. For more information on 30DoSF, please refer to the pinned entry on my WordPress, xlilim – link available in my profile.**_

 _ **I am taking suggestions! If you want to see any couple or character from the story in certain situations, let me know. If I feel inspired by the idea, I will write them! You can PM me, leave a review, or comment on the 30DoSF WordPress page.**_

* * *

 _Here is My God, the Merciful_

Medora straddled one of the red cypress wood beams that crisscrossed the temple's interior and stared silently at the forty-foot bronze statue of the compassionate god that lived among death bringers.

She clapped her hands as she heard some of the older city dwellers say they had during temple visits back when this structure had belonged to a sect of monks. They presented offerings in coins and prayed for good fortune or other. She had no monetary offerings to give, nor did the god have anywhere to hold them, and for the amount that she prayed as well as what she asked for, she didn't find that money had any pull. She brought items as ephemeral as her god—apples as ruby red as blood freshly picked from the trees, incense sticks that permeated the smells of sandalwood and jasmine as their white smoke curled upward at the deity's feet from their burning tips, and candles that bled out their wax faster the brighter they burned.

And maybe, just maybe these were not enough to keep her brother safe on a mission that he took on his own somewhere far from their island home of Bahn. Perhaps, the price for his life was steeper than she had been willing to pay and she pondered it where she sat, her back pressed comfortably to another wooden beam.

Medora straightened in her seat long before she heard the voice of another join her, propelled upward as a series of echoes.

"Do you plan to stare at that creepy statue all day?"

She regarded her younger half-brother Dio with a sparing glance. The young boy had snuck in, hoping to have done so unnoticed, but he had years of nen training to o through before he coughed up a zetsu powerful enough to slip under her radar. He stood with his dusty brown hair tousled and his green eyes narrowed, his lips drawn into a tight line. He belonged to Semele and was only a few days younger than her twin siblings Apollo and Artemis. Every day that she saw him in her home, training as the rest of her half-siblings, and growing, Medora remembered the day that he had taken his first steps. She had watched him, stumbling on his tan legs out of his mother's hands and into Medora's father's as Gaia crushed Medora's hand in her left grip and Panos' in her right. The able-bodied ladies in her retinue were holding Apollo and Artemis, the twins were still wobbly on their own two legs.

 _"Mama, you're hurting me_ ," complained Panos, snatching his hand from Gaia's, his nose bright red and his eyes glassy as if they were about to burst with tears.

Medora heard the bones in her hand crack before the pain forced her to her knees, a scream trapped in her throat. Her mother hand gone down with her and gripped the nape of her neck. _"Scream, Medora, and you will endure worse."_ Gaia forced Medora's neck back to look at her father in the garden with Dio, helping him stomp over the grass as the boy burst into uncontrolled laughter. _"You will kill him. Twist his neck until it snaps, stomp his chest until it caves, reduce him to a print on a wall. Do what you will, but you will kill him or he will kill you. This is our home. Not theirs."_

She had not killed him. Her mother had not either, not even as their family branched out and her father produced more heirs. Only the strongest will survive the end of their family and start again as was the Meljanac tradition.

Medora jumped down, landing in front of Dio, and approached him, staring at his narrow neck. Twist his neck until it snapped. She lowered her gaze. Stomp at his chest until it caved. Then lifted her eyes to meet his own bewildered one. Reduce him to a print on a wall. "I need to offer someone to my god."

"What?"

She stepped past him and pleaded with her mother for a mission. With her forehead kissing the floor, she asked, loudly, "I don't care where or how difficult, give me someone to kill."


	7. The Secrets We Share

**Story** : Horticulture

 **Pairing** ( **s** ): Hisoka/Pandora

 **Word Count** : 116

 **Author's Comment** : I don't know what this is, but hey, it's been great.

 _ **Originally posted on December 20, 2018 for my 30 Days of Short Fiction. For more information on 30DoSF, please refer to the pinned entry on my WordPress, xlilim – link available in my profile.**_

 _ **I am taking suggestions! If you want to see any couple or character from the story in certain situations, let me know. If I feel inspired by the idea, I will write them! You can PM me, leave a review, or comment on the 30DoSF WordPress page.**_

* * *

 _The Secrets We Share_

Secrets twist into their meeting tongues and whatever he gives, she swallows whole like a ravenous snake. His hunger unfurls inside of her like the shifting tides of an ocean until there is no part of her left unsullied by his murderous intent and she is born anew from the adrenaline he sweats. In the heat of battle, in the throes of passion—panting and plunging, deeper and deeper as she opens up, a bruised flower morphing into a cruel devil—fury and red—and she carves into his back a symbol, a divine face, of a scorned god that watches, ever so patiently as her, for the time to come when she'll swallow him whole.


	8. Parade

**Story** : Horticulture

 **Pairing** ( **s** ): Hisoka/Pandora?

 **Word Count** : 176

 **Author's Comment** : I like to consider this a little preview to the next chapter of Horticulture, but at the same time, it is a test to see how colorful I can make things. Enjoy.

 _ **Originally posted on December 26, 2018 for my 30 Days of Short Fiction. For more information on 30DoSF, please refer to the pinned entry on my WordPress, xlilim – link available in my profile.**_

* * *

 _Parade_

Pandora wears a new face for the occasion. A younger model. Not as flexible. He does the trick though. She doesn't need flexible. She requires stamina. To walk along the parade's route, balls of red and purple bursting above her and raining down powder that sticks to her skin. Music is a loud rattling of handmade instruments.

Hisoka follows. Always in disguise. Everything, down to the flick of his wrist is a performance. His mask changes for all new occasions and for this, he exudes a tangible excitement that attracts people to the way he shuffles the deck in his hands so effortlessly. He offers tricks with splatters of pink across his face and grins her way as the crowd divides them.

They find their way back through the parade, looking less like each other than when they started at end of the street. He's tried to kill her more times than she bothered to count, but she laughs with her lips pressed against a chocolate cake pop, beckoning him to try again.

And he follows.


End file.
